Chapter 10

"Why are you here?" King Dundren asked sternly. His face was red with anger. Owen hadn't expected such a reaction. It was unexpected that he stood in front of the king's throne in place of Divina, but such a reaction seemed baffling.

"Where is the girl," Wizard Obus demanded.

"She is sick with a fever," Owen explained, "She does not have her wits enough to come see you, your majesty." The king pursed his lips.

"I will make a potion to rouse her," the wizard started to say, but the king raised his hand to silence him.

"She is unreliable when she is sick," he mumbled, "We learned that from her mother." Owen pretended not to hear, but he was curious at what the king meant about Divina's reliability. What did he rely on her for?

"Let her be for now," the king said a bit louder, "You are dismissed, knight." Owen bowed and left the throne room, feeling the wizard's bird-like eyes follow him all the way. Owen was a bit frustrated at how little he knew about the woman he was guarding. Who was she exactly? She was guarded and stubborn and mysterious. She was confident and brave. She was pretty in a melancholy sort of way. He wished he could find some way to get her to open up.

Owen made his way back to Divina's room and entered without so much as a knock. Normally he would be ashamed of himself for entering a lady's room without permission, but no one was around in this forgotten part of the castle and Divina needed someone to take care of her.

Divina's room was small and a bit shabby. A small fire was tucked away into the corner of the room, but at least it put out enough heat to fill the room. A small vanity sat in the opposite corner with only a brush and comb to lay atop it. Next to the vanity was an armoire with the doors removed for some odd reason. Inside hung only five dresses, each about ten years out of style. Finally, a small bed was pushed into a third corner. Divina laid there under a few blankets Owen had pulled out of the trunk at the foot of the bed.

The covers were pulled up to her nose, making her look like a small bunny. Her skin was ashen and her eyes that were dreamily opening and closing looked dull and unfocused.

"How do you feel?" Owen asked as he pulled the small stool from the vanity to sit at her bedside.

"My head hurts," Divina croaked.

"You knew you would get sick from being out in the rain," Owen sighed, "Why would you make yourself suffer." Divina turned her head to look at him.

"I can't sleep," she answered. Owen paused. She was looking at him as if he would follow her train of thought.

"And making yourself sick will help with that?" Owen prompted.

"No," Divina said looking away again.

"When why make yourself sick," Owen questioned. Divina sighed so long and deep that it turned into a groan.

"Do you wish for something?" Owen questioned, "Water or food perhaps?"

"I wish you to tell me a story," she answered.

"A story?"

"Yes. Tell me about why all the other knights admire you so. I see the way they act around you when we pass them. They all act like you're their big brother. Even the older ones."

"I wouldn't say that," Owen scratched the back of his head.

"I'm too tired for your modesty," Divina moaned, "Don't tell me if you like but tell me a story. My head is pounding and your voice is soothing. I wish to listen to it while I fall asleep." Owen's mouth dropped open. Had she meant to give such a compliment? She looked toward him again with pleading eyes.

"Please, sir knight?" she begged softly. Owen's heart squeezed. Who knew she could be this… cute?

"Fine," relented with a groan. She sighed, closing her eyes and relaxing deeper into her pillow. Owen pushed the hair from her forehead and placed a damp towel.

"Stop fretting," Divina mumbled pushing his hand away.

"I'm not much of a storyteller so do not blame me if the story is lacking," Owen warned. Divina just mumbled something unintelligible.

"When we were in Winnusta, we actually didn't face many battles against Qesan troop," Owen began, "Winnusta is riddled with monsters and most of their army is dedicated to protecting its citizens. So Qesan thought they could easily invade, but they forgot that Ceavaria was their ally. So while Winnusta fought off Qesan, we were tasked with holding back the monsters. There were trolls and giants and griffins and basilisks. But the most bothersome creatures were ogres. They're not the strongest or the smartest, but they have the shortest tempers. You can cut the arm of an ogre and it will still continue to fight as if it were a mere scratch. One day toward the end of the war we were all weary and ready to go back home. It had been raining for days. We were camped out just outside a farming village. They were known for their strawberries and often share some with us. Some village girls were delivering some baskets to us when an ogre attacked. No one knows what made this beast fly into a rage, but the thing ripped through anything it could get its hands on, whether it be our supplies, a tree, or even a human. The ogre was too strong for us and wouldn't fall no matter how many strikes it took. I climbed a tree and jump down on its shoulders. Before it could rip me off, I managed to drive my dagger into its eyes, blinding it. Even without its eyes, it was a formidable foe, but we managed to bring it down, much quicker after that. The villagers were thankful. But a few good men died from their injuries and so did one of the village girls." Owen winced at such a grim ending to the story. He looked down fearing his story had disturbed her, but to his surprise, she was fast asleep. He awkwardly tucked her in not knowing what else to do. He had never cared for a sick person before.

As the days went by Divina's health stayed stagnant and the king's anger grew. Owen was worried that she might never get better. But on the fifth day when Owen visited her in the morning, he found her out of bed and dressed. Her skin was still ashen and her eyes glassy.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he questioned.

"I have to see the king," she replied coldly. Owen held back a sigh. There was that wall again.

"You are still sick," Owen stated.

"I overdid it," she mumbled under her breath. She pushed past him and walked out into the hall with him following close behind. He was concerned when she swayed a bit but refrained from reaching out to stabilize her, knowing that his touch would be unwelcomed.

As always, Owen stood outside the throne room and Divina went in alone. He paced impatiently in front of the door with the attendant waiting with him glared at him. Owen ignored his pointed looks. His anxiety would ease when Divina came back out. And if she requested to go anywhere besides back to her bed, he would drag her kicking and screaming. Owen paused next to the door when he heard the raised voice of the king.

"Insolent brat," he roared. A loud smack and a pitiful yelp reached his ears. Owen's body moved before his decorum could stop him. He burst into the throne room to see Divina crumbled on the ground. Owen froze and kept his eyes on Divina's limp form. He felt anger pump through his body, burning his veins. He knew if he looked up at the king, his true feelings would show, and both he and Divina would be in danger. Luckily King Dundren didn't notice Owen's dark mood since it was overshadowed by his own.

"Take her back to her room," he boomed. Owen instantly moved forward and knelt over Divina. Her eyes were closed and her head lulled to the side as he pulled her from the ground.

"Maybe that will give her the dreams I demand of her," the king mumbled. Owen had no idea, what he meant by that, but he didn't much care either. He lifted Divina in his arms, noting that she felt even lighter than when he had carried her to her room a few days ago. He quickly left the throne room behind. Her cheek rested against his shoulder as he walked. He could feel her skin burn through his shirt. She still had a fever. What kind of king struck a sickly girl he claimed as his ward? Something about the situation didn't make sense and he was done being left in the dark.